Big White Room: Part 1
by SemiPrecious17
Summary: <html><head></head>"You may be damaged but Blaine is good with his hands, even better with his heart."  Implied rape, contemplation of suicide, sexual themes, slash, potential triggers. Genre 3:Hurt/comfort. Now with a companion piece!</html>


**Author: semiprecious17****  
><strong>**Rating: NC-17****  
><strong>**Genre: Angst****  
><strong>**Pairing: Blaine/Kurt****  
><strong>**Word count: 700ish ****  
><strong>**Warnings: Implied rape. Contemplation of suicide. Sexual imagery.****  
><strong>**Summary: Kurt is broken. He can't go on feeling like this...but maybe something or someone will be enough to make him live.**

**Dedicated to those who've chosen the harder option and even to those who didn't. Stay strong**

A/N: I don't really know where this came from, especially since it's my first Glee fic (please be gentle). I guess I'm in an angsty mood? Anyhoo...on with the depressing thoughts!  
>Title from Jessie J.'s amazing song<em> Big White Room <em>cause I felt like the lyrics really fit and it's simply beautiful.

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><p>You lay on your bed, body aching from bruises you hadn't let anyone see, but that you had explored over and over, drawing a line from each one like lines on a fleshy map.<p>

You touch them with a kind of reverence and can't help but have a moment's pleasure that someone had wanted you so much that they actually held you down and forced themselves on you. In you.

But that thought is crushed a second later and you clench your fists at the slow flush of shame and anger. A wild gasp and your shuttering eyes spring back open to stare at the gray of the ceiling, desperately pushing back the images that flash behind the screen of your lids; rough fingers that tear and ragged breath that whispers filth in your ear.

And _God_, it hurt _so much_, the blunt thickness of him pressing into your virgin body. You thought you would pass out from the pain, and even now your body is clenching in remembrance. You try to relax and tell yourself it's over now…well _nearly_ over…the pills are right beside you, you need only to reach over and swallow them down.

There's no point living, right?

You're damaged goods.

Who would want you? How can you even look your family, your friends, in the eye? They'll know at a glance that you're soiled, dirty, _broken._ They'll know you got hard as he wrapped a callused palm around you and jerked you off, that you came even as you cried and _begged_ him to stop. You came and that means you liked it, right? Maybe you wanted him to do it? Maybe you're sick, perverted?

You've already written the letter. It's lying on the bedside table. You took your time in writing it. The final words you write have to be perfect after all!

It's an apology and an excuse and a plea.

Your dad will be devastated of course, but he has Carol now and Finn, they'll get him through it.

Blaine will take it hard too.

Blaine…

He told you he loved you last week, it was the first time. You felt so alive and you kissed him, staring in hazel eyes like they held the answer to every question you've ever had. Tried to tell him _I love you too_ with a hand running through the darkness of his curls and when that didn't seem like enough you traced it onto the roof of his mouth and whispered it against his lips.

It was supposed to be him, you think. His hands running over your body like you're something special, something worth his time. It was supposed to be him who kissed you until your lips were swollen, tongue dipping into the heat of your mouth. Him who slid into you with infinite care, eliciting a chorus of moans, sweeter than any song you've ever sung.

But it wasn't. And now it never would be.

What's left but to pick up the bottle? There's no use putting it off any longer. Wipe your sweaty palms and unscrew the cap, stare down at the small white pills that will make everything better.

You can't help but start in surprise at the sharp beep from your phone next to you, but out of habit you're reaching for it and opening the message.

_Courage_.

You choke on tears that hadn't fallen until then and stare at the screen in something akin to shock.

You have to decide. What takes more courage? Setting down the bottle or swallowing the contents.

Your hands quiver and blue eyes flicker from the phone to the bottle and back again.

And then you put down those pills and the tears threaten to blind you. But no, you're seeing clearer then ever as you press the Call button.

You'll be alright. You may be damaged but Blaine is good with his hands, even better with his heart.

He'll help put you back together again.

It'll take work and you'll sometimes wish you had taken the other option, but each time you'll think back on that word: Courage. You'll look around at the life you almost gave up and you'll cling even tighter and fight even harder.

You'll make it through this; you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.

FIN

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><p>Please review!<p> 


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